


A Beginner's Guide to Bedsharing

by failsafe



Category: Young Avengers (Comics)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Sharing a Bed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-23
Updated: 2016-10-23
Packaged: 2018-08-24 04:02:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8356309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/failsafe/pseuds/failsafe
Summary: The development of sleeping together. Actually sleeping.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Found in my "mine" tag on tumblr and apparently not here. Written in like March 2014 or something.

They almost sleep together a few times before it actually happens. When it does it’s not under the circumstances that either of them had anticipated. When either of them had imagined it, first of all, it usually involved sex.

 

**Tommy**

 

Kate smells expensive. He knows that would sound terrible if he said it out loud. But she does. She smells like vanilla all mixed in with a lot of things he can’t name. Spices and honey. He doesn’t know where the smell starts or where it stops—her shampoo and her lipstick and sprayed on perfume. The nice thing about being this close to her, even though it’s weird, is that he can still track that scent when he closes his eyes. It’s still and warm right ahead of him, right below him, as Kate’s cheek rests against his stomach.

There’s a t-shirt between her and his skin.

That’s good, he realizes. The shirt will hold onto the scent in a way his brain can’t. Sometimes he’s imagined her, but he knows he hasn’t held onto this.

 

**Kate**

 

Stillness. It’s a rare commodity with Tommy Shepherd, and Kate doesn’t know how long it’s going to last. She positions herself at the midpoint of his body, his abs like a pillow. He’s soft enough when at rest for it to kind of work. He’s bonier than his brother by a fraction. She wonders if it’s the difference in the way she’s touched them. Billy’s always been in hugs and the rarest instances of panicked cradling.

Tommy’s been on the receiving end of panicked cradling, too, but it’s different. They all know it is.

There are a lot of things Kate has learned about Tommy by not asking. She wants to, but she’s afraid he’ll start and run away like a spooked cat. She’s always thought she was better with dogs, anyway. She sits up a little but plants one hand firm into the mattress beneath them on Tommy’s opposite side, casually keeping him pinned without any real pressure.

 

**Tommy**

 

“Nap out?” he asks her, when she stirs.

“I wasn’t sleeping,” she says in turn.

“Kate,” he says, and he holds onto the eye contact it brings him. Her eyes are blue—like his brother’s, but not. He forgets that there was anything to be added to that question until she breathes out through her nose, that way she does.

“What?” she asks, and he can tell she’s right on the edge of something. But she’s not moving.

“Where you going?” he asks. He can’t remember if that was the original question or not—the thoughts all go too fast when he’s this still.

“Not going anywhere,” Kate replies firmly.

Tommy lifts his eyebrows. He wonders if that was a come-on, but he’s learned since he’s known her. He never actually knows what is and isn’t a come-on from Kate Bishop. He’s learned to fear her words, to never read anything more into them than is given. He doesn’t know if he’s been given anything.

 

**Kate**

 

Kate feels it again—that pull, that tension. And she knows perfectly well how easy it would be to just lean in and kiss him. She’d not even sure anyone would mind. Her skin’s cold from rain and overly exuberant air conditioning. She’s dry now, but Tommy’s still the warmest thing in the room.

But she knows how that ends. She knows what happens next when it does. Not yet.

“I’m just getting comfortable,” she says, a bit gruffly. She flops back down, ear adjusting position slightly up his chest to make her point.

 

**Tommy**

 

“I give up,” Tommy admits. He looks up at the ceiling—at long, orange spokes of light. He blinks his eyelids and notices them growing heavy on cue.

“Give up what?” Kate asks automatically, conversationally even though the back of her head is the first thing he can see when he glances down.

“I surrender,” he clarifies.

He hears an intake of breath. He feels its warmth blowing slowly out.

“No you don’t,” Kate mumbles.

And for a second it stirs his annoyance but then he almost laughs. She was the first to trust him and he thinks she still trusts him the least. And he knows it’s terrible for her. Him, too.


End file.
